Human Boys, White Flowers and Sunsets
by Kuroi-cho-tsuki-shiro
Summary: Humans place great value in trivial things, but, in desiring to remain in their world, Rukia will be forced to question what she values in her own life. A series of shorts based on the story of Bleach from Rukia's point of view. 7
1. Chapter 1

"Hollow."

The sensor had started to buzz insistently in Rukia's pocket. It couldn't have come at a worse time. They had kept up their pace for nearly two hours now, searching every inch of Karakura for the fugitive soul. She was hungry and tired, aching and out of breath: all sensations that were far to human for her pride to let her acknowledge them. Fortunately, Ichigo was either too focussed on the task at hand to notice she was struggling else he, like her, had assumed such weaknesses could not beset a _shinigami, _even one wearing a _gigai._

"Didn't you say those mod soul things were created to combat hollows?"

"Yes."

"Then, isn't there a good chance he'll be where the hollow is?"

"Yes." She groaned as he broke into a run. She didn't have a chance in hell of keeping up with him: "I'll meet you there."

"What?" He scraped to a halt.

"I'll only hold you up."

"I'll carry you. Like the other night."

"That was night. This is the middle of the day. Don't you think someone might notice? Humans might not be able to see you, but they can still see me."

He stared, as if he too was seeing her for the first time and perhaps noticing the beads of perspiration on her face.

"Alright. Where is it?"

"Near the Junior High. I think you'll see it when you get there. It's a big one."

"Got it."

She watched him sprint away across the park, crowded on a summer afternoon. She had seen Ichigo cleanse enough hollows that she no longer felt anxious about sending him on ahead. Indeed, she had more pressing concerns, like stopping to catch her breath.

The gravel path ran alongside a bank of white flowers, their feathery blossoms rippling in a light breeze that lifted her hair back from her face. She stopped here. Old couples walking their dogs and mothers wheeling children in pushchairs moved past in a constant flow as the gentle wind cooled the sweat on her skin. Bees buzzed amongst the flowers.

How many other _shinigami, _she wondered, had stood here? How many had noticed how warm the summer sun could be in this world? It couldn't last forever, Urahara had said. He had been talking about her time in the _gigai, _but he could just as easily have meant this bright afternoon. It struck her that there was beauty in transience, a beauty that she could not remember experiencing in her own world.

The walk to Karakura Junior High took her back through sun-beaten streets. The sensor had stopped buzzing, which meant that the hollow had been dispatched. There was still the problem of getting Ichigo's body back. Yet, upon nearing the school, she discovered that it might not be so much of a problem now. Even from the gates, she could see Ichigo, still in his _shinigami _form, standing with a small group of people on the flat roof of the school, amongst them, a tall man wearing a striped hat and a long, green coat.

By the time she had climbed up to them, Urahara was lecturing Ichigo on mod souls. The eccentric shopkeeper was leaning on his cane, throwing and cathing a small, green _gikon _in one hand. Ichigo's body lay on the ground, as empty now as any human corpse, while Ichigo himself was scowling hard at Urahara:

"Who the hell are you?" he demanded.

"Me? I'm just a humble shopkeeper."

"Of course you are," Rukia said. Walking past Urahara, she caught the _gikon _mid-air and slipped it into her pocket: "I wouldn't trust him if I were you, Ichigo."

"Hey, that's mine!" said Urahara. "I came here to retrieve my goods!"

"A shopkeeper taking back his wares?" She turned to face him: "Who purchased this _gikon?"_

"You, Kuchiki-_dono," _he said, puzzled.

"And have I asked for a refund?"

"No, but those goods are defective."

"Still, I've decided to keep them." When she reached Ichigo's side, she handed the _gikon _to him and he took it in both hands. "Thank you for retrieving my purchase though."

"Kuchiki_-dono, _I must remind you that all mod souls were to be destroyed. It's illegal to" – Her expression withered his words and he set his mouth in a line as both of them considered what he'd been about to say. She'd been flying on the wrong side of the law for weeks now. What was one more transgression?

The strange thing was, she wasn't certain why she was doing this. It wasn't like her to act outside of the law. Anything but. At first, it had been a matter of pride. It should have been a week, two weeks at most, in this _gigai: _a short period of time in which she should have disappeared from Soul Society's radars, giving her a chance to regain her powers and return to her duties with no-one ever having to know that she had messed up. Now, two months on, her powers showed no signs of returning. If anything, she was getting weaker and, instead of making a decision, instead of asking for help, she had just continued to live somebody else's life. A plea for help, she knew, would end all of this, but it would also turn the eyes of Soul Society towards Ichigo.

She pushed the thought away and turned to look at the human boy. He was kneeling over his body, checking to see how much damage the mod soul had done and she caught herself smiling as she saw how he slipped the _gikon _carefully into his body's T-shirt pocket. Maybe she did know why she was doing this.


	2. Chapter 2

Urahara did not stay to argue with her.

She and Ichigo walked home together, past a building site beside the park. The city was bathed in a blood red sunset and Rukia was lost in thought, watching the orange light change gradually on her skin. Ichigo moaned under his breath and the sound brought her out of her reverie:

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah. It's just" – He flexed his right arm. There was blood on his shoulder. Apparently, the mod soul, while still in his body, had decided to confront the hollow. The injuries weren't serious, but they were numerous and clearly uncomfortable. Rukia intended to heal them tonight, but she needed to rest first and Ichigo, to his credit, hadn't asked: "I just wish I could tell that mod soul what I think of him. Hey, Rukia, how do you make that thing, you know, come to life?" When she turned, he was holding the green _gikon _between two fingers.

"You put it in a human corpse."

"A human corpse….. A human corpse….." He glanced around, then caught himself: "Where the hell am I going to find a human corpse round here? What about….." He walked over to where a pile of trash had been slung out of the building site: "What about this?"

It was a dirty stuffed animal, possibly a lion crossed with a bear. There was stuffing poking out of its shoulder.

"I don't know. I don't think anyone's ever tried….. It's probably illegal," she finished, as he jabbed the _gikon _into the plushie's mouth. It hung lifeless between his fingers.

"Nope. So much for that." He span the stuffed animal once, twice, and made to throw it back onto the garbage heap when it suddenly started to struggle in his grasp:

"Ichigo!" It cried.

Ichigo let it go and it sprang to the ground, standing on two stubby legs. As it examined its body, it started to whimper: "What did you do to me? Ichigo? What did you do? I'm tiny! My beautiful body! You took my body!"

"Your body? This is my body and you messed it up! Hey, I'm not finished with you" –

And as she watched the human boy arguing with a stuffed animal, Rukia wondered again at her motvations. She'd kept the _gikon _because Ichigo had said it would be unfair to destroy it. Such thoughts had never occurred to her. In Soul Society, there was simply the law and the chain of command and the balance between the living and the dead that was at the heart of everything. That was the way things were. Human boys and white flowers and sunsets were not a part of the balance or her duty. They were certainly not a reason to defy orders, she knew.

Yet tonight, like every night, she slipped her satchel over one shoulder and followed Ichigo back to his house. And tonight, like every night, she would make no attempt to contact Soul Society.


	3. Chapter 3

Ichigo called the plushie Kon, from _konpaku, _"soul." He left the _gikon _inside it and gave it the freedom of his room, on the condition that it maintain the charade of a stuffed animal in the presence of his father and sisters. Much to her chagrin, it developed a fond attachment to Rukia. It called her _ne-san, _"sister," and its plaintive morning salutations, designed to rouse her from Ichigo's closet, were more punctual and more irritating than any alarm.

June sixteenth. She dressed while Ichigo was in the shower and sat on his window ledge as he packed his bag. They had become so accustomed to the routine that it was second nature to her now to sneak out over the rooftops and rejoin him later at school.

"See you for class then," she said, stepping out onto the roof. Ichigo ignored her.

He was staring at the date on his watch.

Rukia ducked her head back into the room. The sudden stillness that had come over him was something new to her, and something cork-screwed in the pit of her stomach at seeing the expression on his face: "What's wrong, Ichigo?" she asked. And when he once again said nothing, just kept on staring, his name began to taste strange on her lips: "Ichigo?"

The door to his room opened and she ducked down quickly, skidding across the roof tiles and dropping into the road beside his house. Not her usual route, or her usual elegance. She scarpered out of sight before his father or sisters saw.

He was quiet at school. Moreso than usual. It was a Thursday and she had somehow ended up taking different classes for much of the day, but, when he failed to meet her for lunch, it was with a growing sense of unease that she accepted she wouldn't be seeing him today. Not that it mattered, she told herself later that evening. She could use the time to formulate a plan, to decide what to do next.

He spent most of the night downstairs with his family. From his darkened room, she could hear them talking and laughing. It was the first time since she'd arrived that he'd not made his excuses and brought her leftovers from the dinner table. She tried to forget that, and the gnawing hunger in her stomach, tried to push them both out of her head so that she could consider the matter at hand: what was she going to tell her superiors? A story that glossed over the transfer of her powers? She could claim that she lost them; it was a flat-out lie, but that might be the end of it. Except, of course, there was still the problem of Ichigo. She wasn't the first and she wouldn't be the last _shinigami _posted to Karakura, and time was demonstrating that his newly-acquired powers weren't merely going to fade with use. In the end, Soul Society would find him. She curled up on the bed with her knees up to her chin, miserable in the knowledge that she had brought this on herself.

When, minutes later, Ichigo entered the room, he ignored her entirely and went instead to the window. He was dressed in pyjamas, his skin still damp from the shower. There was a towel draped over his shoulders, catching drops of water from his pale hair. "That sounded fun!" Rukia said, leaping up from the bed. Even to her, the ebullience sounded false, but it roused Ichigo from his reverie and he turned to her with a slight frown:

"What did?"

"That meeting with your family. I could hear you talking. Planning and laughing."

"Oh. Yeah," he said, half-heartedly.

"It sounded fun; that's all I'm saying."

"Yeah. Ah….. Rukia, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Can I take tomorrow off, from soul-reaping duties and all that?"

Her heart sunk in a mixture of anger and disbelief:

"What? How can you ask me that? I thought we'd decided" –

"But it's just one day," he said softly, turning back to the window.

"And what's so special about tomorrow?"

"It'll be five years to the day since my mother died." He turned back to watch her expression as those words sunk in. He'd planned them that way, she realised. So that they stung. "I should say, five years since she was killed."

Whatever he wanted from her, she could not give; she knew that. Time and again, he had pulled their conversations around in directions that made her uncomfortable: his consistent questioning of her authority, his compassion for the mod soul, and now this, thrown out to her, like a challenge.

I know I'm not human, she wanted to say. And I know that humans are sentimental creatures. And I know they can't see what I have seen: the interconnections of life and death. Instead, they treasure frail things; things that are only the shards of a greater whole they will never understand. She wanted to say that. And she wanted, also, to tell him that she knew what it was to grieve, that despite all her self-justification, she still felt loss. No, she still felt. That was it. She didn't celebrate these emotions or desire them, as he seemed to, but they were still present, persistent and distracting.

Her throat closed over the words. In the face of her silence, he threw down the towel and left the room as if his point were made. He hadn't turned on the light and Rukia stood in the darkness for only a moment before she could bear it no longer. She turned and climbed into his cupboard, closing the door on the words that still hung in the air.

She couldn't sleep that night. She could hear Ichigo muttering through his dreams, tossing and turning and crying out. For the first time since coming to his house, she felt like an intruder, and nothing she could do would shut out his nightmares.

Ichigo made no effort to wake her in the morning. She heard his alarm and the usual clatter he made as he tried, groggily, to turn it off. After that, he must have dressed and left in silence because, when she opened the door of the cupboard and slipped out, his bed was made and his curtains were drawn back. A fine, bright day hung outside the window, humidity already gathering in ripples in the air.

It didn't take her long to come to a decision.

It was absurdly hot for June. The local cemetary was atop a hill overlooking the town. The graves were planted in straight, unnatural lines, offset by copses of wild-grown trees and parkland. Despite human superstitions, Rukia knew that graveyards were the least hospitable places for wandering spirits. The bodies interred here had all received proper burial rituals. Each would have been granted safe passage into the next world. It was a peaceful place. Even the humans could sense that, on a day like this, when the sun was bloated in the sky and families came to picnic by the graves of their loved ones.

She wore a one-piece dress today: yellow, cut just above her knees. A thin straw boater shielded her eyes, protecting her from the sun, which fell like fire on her bare arms and legs.

Ichigo was approaching the cemetary from the main road, his sisters in tow, carrying picnic hampers and folded blankets. When she waved, it was Karin who saw her and motioned to her brother. Ichigo looked up and his eyes widened.

He'd not expected her to come after him. More than that though, he seemed irritated by her presence, his brows drawing down into a deeper frown than usual. He turned, spoke to his sisters, then strode away from them, towards Rukia. The two girls stared on as he took her hand and led her into the cemetary.

Trees afforded them a dappled shade. He let go of her hand and shunted his own into his pockets:

"Why are you here?"

The words were cold. Rukia caught herself: she had expected a different reception, had hoped, in fact, that by coming here she might have atoned, somehow for last night. If anything, though, his anger was more cruel today: hard as stone behind his eyes.

"I was thinking about what you told me last night," she said quickly, trying hard to fill the silence: "You said your mother had died, but you didn't say how it happened." He stared at her. A long and empty stare, and she continued: "Because, I was thinking, with your _reiatsu, _it's possible – well, I mean – could it have been a hollow that killed your mother? It might have been drawn to you" –

"Be quiet, Rukia," he said, so softly that she might have missed it.

"It's something you shoud consider. It's not unknown for hollows" –

"I said, be quiet." He walked past her.

"Ichigo" –

"What is it with you and hollows? Is that your answer for everything? Why can't you ever just leave me alone?"

"I only meant that" –

"Because it was me, Rukia. Okay? I killed her. It was me."

With that, he broke into a sprint. She might have followed, but his words had sliced through her, leaving her cold, and she shivered in the midday heat. This was not how it was meant to go. This was not what she had imagined, leaving his home this morning. She had come to say sorry; for what, she wasn't certain and nor had she formulated any way to say it, but she had just assumed that, with Ichigo, the pieces would fit into place.

Hollows.

Is that your answer for everything?

She left the gravel path behind and wandered between the trees. It was cooler here. The sound of water running through man-made channels and the distant ringing of a bell from the central shrine reached her ears. Where the trees ended, the ground fell away. And Rukia sat down on the grass. From here, she could see the town stretching eastwards, grey on grey with pockets of green parkland and the bright ribbon of the river winding between them.

"I'm such a fool," she whispered.

Is that your answer for everything?

Hollow. Yes. It had made sense, since that day in Soul Society when her world had come crashing down. Since then, she had had nothing but the work and an endless struggle to prove herself to people who had never asked for proof. All this time, she had been squeezing herself tighter and tighter, wringing out her hopes and moulding them into something more simple, more precise. If she kept to her duties, if she protected humans, if she followed the rules, then gradually, gradually, she had believed, her world would reform around her. Yet it never had, and now it was peeling away like dry paper, leaving something incomprehensible behind. Incomprehensible, but bright and irresistable, like a summer's day.

"_Ne-san!" _The voice came from the rucksack she carried. It unzipped from the inside and Kon's head emerged.

"I told you to stay in there."

"I would, but it's so hot! _Ne-san" – _she felt the little creature crawl onto her shoulder. One of its paws rested against her cheek: "Why are we here? Where's Ichigo?"

"With his family."

"Then let's go home. It's too hot to sit out here."

"I can't. If a hollow attacks, he won't be able to assume _shinigami _form without me."

"Hollow, hollow, hollow! You sound like a stuck record, _Ne-san. _You should take a day off."

"I can't."

It was then that they heard a soft whistling coming from the wood behind them. Rukia cocked her head on one side, listening. It was clearly a way of getting her attention, but Ichigo wasn't given to such subtleties and she wasn't certain why anyone else in the graveyard would want to signal to her. As she stood up, Kon lost his balance on her shoulder and found purchase on the rucksack, where he made himself comfortable, mumbling something about her disregard: "Hush! What is that?"

The woods seemed empty at first, but, as she made her way back to the path where she and Ichigo had parted company, she became aware of small changes. The sound of birdsong was absent. So too the soft murmur of water and the distant chimes from the temple shrine. It was as if the wood had changed while her back was turned. An eerie, unnatural silence punctuated only by that breathy whistling.

She didn't see him immediately. The figure was slumped at the base of a tree, a straw hat pulled down across his eyes, like a labourer resting in the midday heat. It was only as he stood up, unfolding to his full height, that she understood who he was and why the world had changed:

"_Shinigami," _she whispered and he grinned broadly.

She stepped backwards; the motion was instinctive: a reaction to the sword on his hip and the stance he had taken. He was standing like a coiled spring and years of training made her mirror his readiness, although she understood already that, if he chose to attack, she would stand no chance. He was armed. She was not. His _reiatsu _alone had been enough to silence the birds and scramble her senses.

"Lady Kuchiki Rukia," he said, still smiling. His eyes roved over her body, taking in the small summer dress and the boater that had fallen from her head when she'd stepped back. She coloured under his gaze: "My name is Eikichiro. I've been sent to check up on your mission and report back to Soul Society. Ah, Lady Rukia, it's good to see you. Do you remember me?" He relaxed slightly and Rukia frowned: "We were at school together. Oh, I was in a different year, but I remember you, Lady Rukia of the Kuchiki clan." He approached her. This time, she let him: "I was quite the class town, but very popular with the girls. Do you remember now?"

"No."

"Oh." He stepped back from her expression and seemed to shake himself out of the memory, though she suspected it was little more than an act. His eyes, once again, moved all over her body: "How did you lose your powers?"

"What makes you think I've lost my powers?"

"You're walking around in that _gigai."_

"I can wear a _gigai _if I want to!"

"Were they stolen or did you give them away?" She held her tongue and he sighed deeply, enjoying the benevolence of his role: "Well, there's nothing for it then. If you won't talk, I'm under orders to take you back, one way or another." And, with those words, he stepped back and drew his sword.


	4. Chapter 4

Instinctively, Rukia reached for her own blade, only to recall that she was not wearing one. She dodged Eikichiro's first attack, but her body, in this form, was clumsy, heavy. Where she could have once braced herself against the air itself, she stumbled, lost her footing, and skinned her palms on the gravel path.

Her only weapon now was her _kido. _Taking her stance, she covered her right wrist with her left hand, drawing on the little energy left in the _gigai:_

"_Hado no san jou san!" _The blue fire that should have leapt from her palm blossomed only briefly, then withered as if melted by the hot sun. She no longer possessed the _reiatsu _for simple _kido _spell! Eikichiro threw back his head and laughed at her, then swept his sword suddenly and brutally through the air.

It should have cleaved her in two. She closed her eyes and, when no blow fell, dropped to her knees, panting hard. Another figure had entered the fray. He had ducked low under Eikichiro's sword-arm and had blocked the sword's descent.

"Ichigo," she whispered.

"Who the hell are you?" demanded Eikichiro.

"Kurosaki Ichigo, substitute soul reaper!"

The _shinigami _looked the human boy up and down then glanced at Rukia where she knelt on the ground behind him:

"This is him? This is the human who stole your powers?"

"I didn't steal anything! She gave them to me so that I could save my family!"

"Kuchiki Rukia," Eikichiro said slowly, his eyes widening with a mixture of surprise and scandal: "That's a fucking felony!"

"What?" Ichigo glanced back at her: "Rukia, what's he talking about?"

"You need to stay out of this, Ichigo," she said.

"Yeah, stay out of this, Ichigo." Eikichiro laughed and Kurosaki rounded on him:

"Not likely! You're attacking an unarmed woman with a sword!"

"Well then, that's your choice. Anything you need to say to him, Rukia, you'd best say it now. I'll not have a human getting in my way."

Rukia had slipped the rucksack from her shoulders as they spoke and had retrived Urahara's glove. Now, she pulled it on and, as Eikichiro lunged at Ichigo, she sprang towards the human boy, using the full weight of her body to knock him back. Together, they went sprawling. In the confusion, she reached for his forehead with her gloved hand. It disappeared beneath his skin. The familiar sense of cold, this time, made her gasp, as it drew on the _reiatsu _of her own body, of which there was little left. But then he was free. His body went limp beneath her while his spirit form, wielding his broad-bladed _zanpakuto _and dressed in the black uniform of a _shinigami, _stepped up onto the air above her head and down again onto the ground behind her. He had placed himself between them.

She winced as the clash of swords began. She had no way of knowing if Ichigo was capable of holding his own against _shinigami _ and, even if he could, she dreaded to imagine the consequences they would face for this.

"Kon!" she called to the mod soul who, up until now, had been hiding in a clump of long grass: "Get over here!"

"_Ne-san!" _He ran to her. Before he could anticipate her intentions, she grabbed the toy about its throat and stuffed her hand as far into its mouth as she could. Her fingers found the _gikon. _She yanked it out and, without hesitation, dropped it into the mouth of Ichigo's body. His eyes flickered open, wide with shock: _"Ne-san!"_

"Take him out of harm's way."

"But _Ne-san" – _

"Do it!"

She stuffed the now inanimate plushie back in her bag as Kon sprinted away, narrowly avoiding the two _shinigami _locked in combat. As she did so, though, she felt the hollow sensor start to vibrate. She stared: "Ichigo! Hollow!" The words, shouted more out of habit than common sense, nevertheless had an immediate effect on both combatants. They broke apart.

Ichigo glared at Eikichiro, trying to get the measure of him. Perhaps though it was apparent from the way they had both been fighting that neither would strike a dishonourable blow. They both downed swords. Ichigo stalked over to wear Rukia was standing: "It's nearby. That way," she said.

"What kind?" asked Eikichiro.

"It's powerful. Ichigo, your sisters! You must go."

He didn't need to be told twice. Rukia fell in beside him as he began to run in the direction she had pointed.

"Hey! Hey!" shouted Eikichiro behind them: "You can't just leave!" But they had.

Ichigo could have probably run faster, but, despite the danger to his sisters, she realised he was matching her pace. He had no intention of leaving her behind for Eikichiro. She was grateful. More than that: a strange emotion had crept into her chest. It was winding its way deeper with her every breath: a sweet sensation. Warm. She was safe here, she knew. Even though she faced dangers every day, she could not shake off the sense that she was safe so long as he was there.

"Aren't you going to ask me about my mother?" Ichigo asked as he ran. She didn't reply at once, but, when she did, it was with the truth:

"It is a deep, deep wound," she said: "There is nothing I could say that would not sully it. Perhaps, in time, you could tell me" –

"You're not even curious?" he asked. Testing her again, but, this time, she felt no bitterness. She let the smile that had been waiting in her chest blaze into her eyes:

"I can wait. I'm not going to go anywhere."

His eyes met hers and, for an instant, she thought she saw a mirror of her own emotions: a question and an answer all rolled into one. Could we? Are we? Quite simply. Yes.

And then there was no more time. They had run headlong into another fight.


	5. Chapter 5

**If you enjoyed this story, please check my profile page for the next in the series . It lists them in order so you shouldn't have any trouble finding them. Thanks!**


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